Masked SheWolf: Masked SheWolf trilogy, #1

By Yara Gharios

The first female werewolf in centuries has to stay hidden. Micheal Dylan Connolly was born a girl against all odds, and she must mask her gender to evade those who would want to use her bloodline. She has been living as a boy for almost eighteen years now.

When a powerful pack comes into town, Michael's secret is in jeopardy. She is torn between her fascination with the newcomers and her fear of being taken. But she isn't the only one keeping secrets; the pack's new leader, Alpha Logan Underwood, did not suddenly change homes for no reason.

However, danger can surprise you from anywhere; even those closest to us are capable of putting our lives at risk, and pretty soon, Michael finds herself in the middle of too many lies, which could threaten to expose hers.

Because secrets always seem to have a way of coming out.

(Book 1 in Masked SheWolf trilogy)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yara Gharios
• Release date: Feb 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215452714

Yara Gharios

Lebanese writer Yara Gharios has been making up stories since she could remember. She started writing them down as early as 8 years old and migrated to writing complete, full-length novels by the time she was 11. Under the pen name Sahar Ghayar, she wrote several novels in her free time but didn’t actively pursue publishing them herself. By the time she was 19, she was active in the online reading community, Wattpad, through her trilogy “Masked SheWolf.” The series garnered enough attention for her to consider self-publishing, but it was years before she began to find enough success to continue writing full time. These days, she devotes most of her time to her writing, her cat, and her family (in no particular order).

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Dylan

Iwant you to do something for me. Everything you think you know about my world, throw it out the window. As of now, you know nothing. You will eventually learn everything.

Here’s my first revelation for you: werewolves are real. They have existed for longer than people can remember. I know, shocking, right? But there aren’t that many of them, which is kind of a bummer because they’re pretty awesome. They used to be exposed to the world, and at one point, humans even hunted them down.

Ever since those days of persecution, werewolves have lived in secret communities called packs. Today, an average pack would consist of around thirteen to sixteen members, all of whom are related somehow –over eighteen, if they’re a really big family. We like to live in small numbers, to avoid suspicion among humans, but not small enough to leave ourselves unprotected.

Very few packs have the means to provide for a large number of members while remaining safe, but there are some known around the world to have more than fifty. Those are usually the ones who give themselves a name, like they’re famous or something. They’re the closest thing werewolves have to royalty.

Their numbers give them an advantage over other packs. Plus, they own most of the lands ideal for shifting without being detected by humans. Other packs need their permission to shift on their land. Therefore, they become an authority figure that smaller groups go to in time of need.

Sadly, this can lead to a few pain-in-the-ass packs, which are all about amassing power and forcing their authority on others. Werewolves who choose to live on their own among humans create a problem for those power-hungry. It’s like a mob, in a way; join us, or die.

To be fair, not all big packs are like that, but enough of them are. They’re hard to contain by the other more powerful big packs, but luckily not impossible, which is why we haven’t had any conflicts among our kind in decades.

That’s not all; you should also be aware that werewolves stopped having daughters about five centuries ago. No one knows why or how this happened, which means no one knows how to stop it, either. But it caused a panic among every pack in the world, big and small. They called it the pandemic. It got to the point where only male werewolves are born now, and they have to ‘mingle’ –if you know what I mean– with human girls for their species not to go extinct.

The result of a werewolf-human union is a male werewolf who is not as powerful as one born from two werewolf parents. Back in the pre-pandemic days, werewolf-human relationships used to be a shameful thing because they dilute the bloodline, but now they’re necessary. What else are werewolves supposed to do? Let the race die? Besides, humans are not viewed as though they’re beneath werewolves. Not anymore.

Once a male chooses a girl as his mate, he can tell her everything about our world. Back when there were female werewolves, everyone had a significant other, magically predestined for them. Humans call them soul mates, but werewolves just call them mates. Unfortunately, the only way for werewolves to find their true mate is to see each other when they’re shifted to wolf form. Humans, sadly, can’t do that.

Now imagine what the reaction would be if a female werewolf was born in the twentieth century. Every child she might have with a male wolf, boy or girl, would be as strong as in the old days. Any pack interested in making stronger werewolves would definitely want to steal her. Those who were reluctant to do so would, at the very least, be afraid of other packs getting stronger because of her, and would do anything to prevent that.

Either way, I don’t think they would be so casual about it, like Hey, let’s meet her and hope she falls in love with one of ours and makes babies with him! No, it would be more like Snatch her and go, go, go! Maybe that’s effective for them, not so great for her.

There’s only one solution here; no one can know she’s a girl. Pretending to be human doesn’t work, since her scent would give away her animal gene. Pretending to be a boy, however, might be effective, because there’s no difference between female and male werewolf scent. She just needs to watch out who she shifts in front of, because then they would be able to tell that she’s actually a girl just by looking down her stomach.

Now, you’re probably wondering where I’m going with this. See everything I just told you? It all comes back directly to me; I am a female werewolf in hiding. It’s why I was given a boy’s name when I was born; Michael Dylan Connolly. No one besides my parents and four brothers know the truth, and that’s the way it has to stay, or else I’m in serious trouble.

CHAPTER 1

Michael

My patience sometimes amazes me. On any normal day, I am the most impatient person in my family. One of the perks of being the youngest is that I usually get what I want, if I ask my parents nicely enough of course.

I never ask for anything extravagant; I understand that there is a limit. However, anything my parents can provide for me is never refused. If I want the new PlayStation, I will get it tomorrow.

For my eighth birthday, they even got me a whole park full of inflatable balloon castles. I think they do this kind of stuff to overcompensate for denying me the freedom to really be myself, which means that despite always being given most of the things I asked for, I didn’t grow up to be spoiled.

I did, however, become an impatient child, and it stuck with me since then.

However, today is War Day. On those days, I am always so concentrated on getting my task done that my patience is practically endless.

I can tell what each of my brothers is responsible for, thanks to the trails left behind by their individual scents. Mason made his move this morning when I woke up and stuffed my feet into whipped-cream-filled slippers. Before I could even start planning how to get back at him, Danny apparently also glued my shoes to the floor. Then Nate made sure my bedroom was locked from the outside, and he probably has the key.

At first, I wasn’t sure if Connor had done his part yet or not, but then I notice that Burns isn’t in the room, even though the window is closed, and I know that he did. I usually leave the window open for Burns at night. He would leave and eat mice, or whatever it is cats do at night.

But Burns either should have been back already, or the window should have been opened, because he always closes it after he comes back, right before crawling next to me to sleep.

I could have forgiven my other brothers’ harmless pranks by going easy on them, but my eldest is so going to pay. Nobody messes with my cat.

I found him myself when I was sixteen. Burns was left by his mother to die in the corner of a diner where my brothers and I like to hang out. He was so tiny, and he was crawling blindly across the dirty ground, all blackened from rolling in the filth around him. It was only after I washed him that I found out Burns was actually grey with a white underside, and that it wasn’t all dirt. I fed him every day with a dropper for a few weeks, until he could see and walk around on his own. But then Burns started following me home. I didn’t even lead him here; he found me on his own. So I asked my parents if I could keep him, and they let me.

Sometimes, Burns acts more like a creature with a conscience than a cat. He’s attached to me, even though it shouldn’t be possible, because I am in a way related to dogs. But I am still very protective of him.

As motivated as I am right now to hatch the perfect evil plan and get back at Connor before going to the others, being trapped in my bedroom is kind of a setback. I could just break the door, but I might as well shout out that I’m awake and lose the element of surprise. Besides, it would make my parents very angry, and that’s never a wise decision.

So that’s how I ended up sneaking out of my bedroom window, just five minutes after waking up.

Connor’s room is right next to mine. All I have to do is carefully climb up the tree outside my window, go to the side facing Connor’s room, swing down, go in through his window and execute my master plan. Piece of cake!

The climb is the easy part, the result of strong muscles combined with years of practice. With four older brothers, a girl is bound to learn how to get by. When I get to the branch at Connor’s room, I sit on it sideways, with the window to my right. I lock my legs firmly around the branch, and I swing to the right with the intent of grabbing on to the windowsill. But then my foot gets stuck between two smaller intertwining branches

Shit! I cry out.

It’s too late for me to catch myself, and I end up dangling with my foot painfully wedged and twisted to the side. This only fuels my anger and desire to have revenge, and the pain becomes a distant feeling in the back of my brain.

Without thinking twice about it, I use my lodged foot to swing myself back up and then break the part of the branch that’s keeping my ankle tied. Sometimes, having werewolf super strength is awesome. Okay, it’s awesome all the time, but still; on War Day, it’s a big bonus.

After freeing myself, I change tactics by sitting on the branch while facing the window, using the back of my knees and my hands to hold myself. Swiftly, I swing backwards with more ease this time. My speed again gives me an advantage. I spin so fast that a second later, my hands come in contact with the edge of Connor’s window. I immediately let go of the branch.

I am so focused that I don’t feel anything; not the way the wood bites into my skin and tears my pajamas, nor the fact that my ankle is starting to throb. When I am done with my mission, I can think about the rest.

Once again, climbing is the easy part, especially with my strength. Seconds later, I am standing in my brother’s room, feeling rightfully smug. I know exactly what I am going to do to him. Instantly, I go to the first drawer of his bedside table where I know he keeps his phone. He only grabs it when he leaves the house or when his girlfriend comes over and takes possession of it.

The screen flashes and demands his password, which makes me hesitate for a second. Connor changes it almost every week because of me. What can it be this time?

I try the old one, just in case; 6764, the letters NPNG, which stand for no pain, no gain. All of my brothers are so obsessed with their muscles. It’s ridiculous. The password doesn’t work, though, and I have to stop and think for a moment.

What’s Connor more obsessed with than himself lately? I wonder.

A smirk plasters on my face when I figure out the answer and type 26627. The irony of it makes my plan seem even smarter and more perfect. The screen unlocks immediately. I dive for the door to take a peek out and make sure no one is upstairs. Then I close and lock it.

The third drawer in his dresser is my next target, because that’s the one his current girlfriend, Sandra –or is it Kendra?–  uses nowadays. I feel disgusted at what I find in there, because it just confirms how often Connor’s girl spends the night. After much searching, a grimace on my face, I thankfully find what I am looking for. I’m pretty sure it can fit me.

Hastily, I take off my sweatshirt and unwrap the custom-made bandages I have been wearing since I was thirteen, along with the shirt that hides the edges, and which I use to conceal my obviously feminine chest and make it look, as well as feel, flat.

I don’t wear bras, for obvious reasons. But if I ever want to try putting on a pair, just to get a feel of what it’s like, I would never in a million years have chosen something this lacy or pink. Looking at myself in Connor’s mirror, I am surprised by how well they fit me, and how hot I look in them.

My dark brown hair, which I’ve kept short over the years, is pretty disheveled, considering I just woke up. It’s sticking up in a pixie-like hairdo, which looks weirdly cute. Although my eyebrows are as full and messy as can be, my face retaining the peach fuzz I was born with, my skin looks smooth and glowing. My torso is usually hidden, but right now, with nothing but the bra and my boy sweatpants on, one can plainly see the curve of my waist and chest, and the thinness of my stomach.

For a moment, I just stand there staring at myself in the mirror, amazed that I actually look like a girl for once, a sexy one too, minus the slight facial hair. I even strike a pose and try on my best seductive smile. But then I remember that I have a mission, and I execute it as fast as I can.

When I’m done, I make sure there’s nothing to suggest my presence in Connor’s phone, which I return to the drawer. Then I unlock the door and casually stroll out into the hallway. Two seconds later, I remember that I am still wearing someone else’s underwear, so I run back into Connor’s room and take it off. I fix my bandages and put my shirts back on.

Right as I am putting the bra back into the drawer and getting ready to close the latter, he comes in.

Busted! he yell.

I jump and knock my elbow against the dresser. Hey, Con! What’s up bro?  I ask as casually as I can while facing him.

At six foot seven and as bulky as he is, you’d think he wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. However, there he is, leaning against one side of the frame with his arms crossed, making his biceps bulge out of the same white shirt he always wears in the mornings, his blond hair still messy and his eyebrows raised in a questioning manner above his sea blue eyes. Anyone who doesn’t know him would call him dangerous after taking one glance at his sharp and angular face combined with his giant physique. But we, as his family, know better.

I know what you’re doing, Connor says in a threatening tone.

Ignoring my anxiety over my plan going up in smokes, I manage to look surprised and innocent. What am I doing?

Oh spare me the innocent act, he calls my bluff. What were you even going to do with Andrea’s bra, anyway? -Andrea! That’s her name!- Hang it on my doorknob so Mom and Dad would find it? They pretty much know everything, you know, so they wouldn’t have cared.

Interesting, I muse. So he didn’t put it together. Well, he just made it easier for me to lie my way out of this.

Actually, I was going to throw it on Nathan’s bed and make you think she cheated on you, I easily say, sticking my chin up and crossing my arms defensively.

Clearly, he finds my supposed plan very unoriginal, and an epic failure, too. That’s it? he asks. This is how you avenge your beloved Burns? Wow, you’re losing your touch, Mickey. That wouldn’t have worked because I wouldn’t have cared anyway; she and I aren’t exclusive.

This actually surprises me. I may forget the girl’s name, but Connor’s always seemed to like her more than any of the others girls he’s been with that I know of. The rest of us assumed she would be the one he eventually chose as a mate and told our secret to. But so far he hasn’t done that, even though it’s been almost seven months. That’s the longest he’s ever kept a girl around; the second longest was six weeks. That should mean something.

What, really? I ask, momentarily distracted. But I thought you really like her. I thought she was the one; we all did.

He shrugs and brushes my comment off. I like her, but I’ve still got time. There are plenty of other women with potential as mates.

What he’s referring to is a basic unspoken law in our world. Putting me aside, female werewolves do not exist, but we don’t have to let the entire race die. It’s advisable that werewolves have children by the time they’re 30, which means they should be in a serious relationship a few years before that; werewolves have enough respect for humans to be intolerant of fathers abandoning their werewolf sons with human mothers, especially when said mothers don’t know about the existence of werewolves. For that reason, 25 is considered the average age at which a werewolf must have chosen a mate, and Connor is 24.

It’s not really a law, as in someone checks every year on all werewolves of the world to see if they’re on track, and if not forces them to do it. Some werewolves never have children, live happy lives with several women and aren’t looked down on for it. However, the bigger packs tend to be strict about this rule for their alphas, which is what the big leaders are called, and betas, or the seconds in command; arranged marriages with human girls who are somehow connected to werewolves and already know of their existence are very common.

As for my family, we may be a small pack, but my dad likes to keep this tradition as well, being originally from a big pack before he and my family left when Mom was pregnant with me and Danny. He added to it his own rule, though; the first one of my brothers who chooses a mate, marries her and has a son will be the alpha after him.

So far, Mason’s the only one with a declared mate, but I thought for sure Connor would catch up to him when his relationship with Andrea lasted more than a two month. I have nothing to say and remain silent, which gives Connor the opportunity to tackle me to the ground.

Don’t ever go into my stuff again, he grunts as we start to wrestle.

Like all my brothers, he’s much bigger than me, which usually gives him the advantage under different circumstances. But when wrestling against only one of them, my size is actually my strong point because I can easily get out of his grip no matter how strong he is. Plus, I’m not that weak, either, and I am perfectly capable of taking one of them on.

I’m almost on the edge of gaining the upper hand and getting Connor off of me when we hear a voice at the door.

Ahem.

Connor and I freeze and look up at the same time. And there stand the rest of my siblings. Mason and Nathan are exact replicas of each other except that Nathan’s blond hair is a bit curlier; his blue eyes more expanded when he smiles and his face slightly thinner. As for Danny, we might be twins, but being fraternal means we don’t have any features in common, except for our brown hair color. He has the same blue eyes the rest of my siblings do, while mine are hazel. My face is also rounder while his is sharp and defined, despite being only 17. And let’s not forget he has the same tall and muscled build up as the rest of them, while I am slightly on the shorter side. Their sizes are almost intimidating, if not for the fact that this is routine for us and I know what to expect. We are about to form teams.

Let me explain how this usually goes for us Connolly boys. There are five of us, right? Logically speaking, we can’t make up two teams and have a fair fight. However, there’s me; I may be a boy everywhere I go, but in my house, there’s no forgetting I’m a girl. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not as strong as they are, even if I am stronger than normal girls and even normal guys.

But my brothers like to challenge themselves in everything they do. Taking on two guys of equal strength and one girl who is stronger than the average female, with only one teammate to help them out; now that is a huge challenge for them. So when two of us start a match, and it could be any two, the moment the others join, the ones already wrestling are the leaders and they fight over the other three for who gets to be on their team.

Sometimes, we mix it up and have a completely unfair fight of one on four, but those rarely happen, and they aren’t as serious as our routine thing because the group of four obviously always wins.

Mase! Connor immediately yells. Remember how Michael took a picture of you throwing up after last week’s party at Giselle’s, and posted it on the school website?

Don’t listen to him, Mase, you know that was him and not me! I retaliated.

That actually was me, but I managed to convince them all that it was Connor. What can I say? I’m a very convincing liar. I have to be, to keep my secret.

Nate, I know you and Mase are twins, but you have to be on my side, Con went on.

Oh please, I scoffed. He loves me more than he loves you.

No freaking way; you locked him in the girls’ bathroom for last month’s War Day, he reminded me.

Well if that’s how you want to do it, then Daniel is with me because you locked him in the girls’ bathroom once too, I threw back.

After having made our arguments, we stare expectantly at them and wait. The choice is ultimately theirs.

I’m with my twin, Danny says.

Yeah! I shout victoriously.

Well, I’m with Connor, Mason adds. I’m pretty sure that was you who posted the picture, Mickey.

Innocent until proven guilty, I throw back.

So that means I’m with Michael, Nate concludes with a sardonic smile.

May the best team win, Connor declares before they all jump in.

Ten minutes later, Connor and Mason’s team is beating us against all odds, when Mom calls for us from downstairs.

Boys! she shouts. You’ve made enough of a ruckus. Come down for breakfast; the girls and I won’t wait for you forever!

We keep going for a bit more until Mason, the voice of reason among us, points out that we should probably get going or else breakfast will get cold.

You just want to see your mate, Nate teases his twin.

That too, Mason confirms, not bothering to deny it.

Mason met Marianna two years ago, when he and Nathan went for a trip across Europe. She claims he was a jerk when she first met him, going partying every night and coming home with a different girl. She was a waitress at the place he frequented the most and saw him coming and going on his exploits, while also putting up with his incessant attempts to flirt with her.

Finally, one night, after he had struck out with a girl because he was totally hammered, he was having a sort of personal pity party while Nate was off with another girl. Marianna wanted to kick him out, but he kept telling her things about himself. Drunk Mason is a very honest and vulnerable Mason, so she saw in him something more than the playboy she thought him out to be.

Whenever he tells us the story of how they met, he says that there is only one thing he remembers from that night, something she said that haunted him until he saw her again. He still refuses to tell us what it is, for whatever reason, however, he does say that it turned his life upside down, and he’s been in love with her ever since.

Six months ago, on his 20th birthday, he told her everything about us being werewolves, and even about me being a girl; she was the only one outside our family who knew that. It took my parents a lot of time to forgive Mason and accept that Marianna would never betray us, and she accepted him as well as us wholeheartedly.

I think beneath their teasing of his relationship and calling him sappy, my brothers secretly envy Mason, because he was confident she would accept him when he told her the truth, and because she had accepted him without hesitation. There was always that fear in male werewolves that their chosen mate wouldn’t accept them, but Mason seriously lucked out. She’s very sweet and smart.

Marianna and I get along well, and she’s the closest thing I have to a female companion, even though she’s 4 years older than me. But that isn’t really saying much; Marianna gets along with everybody. She even gets along with Connor’s girl, while I have to make an effort to want to talk to her.

As it so happens, when my brothers and I come into the kitchen, I see them laughing together while my mom finishes setting the table. It may seem weird that my parents are aware of my brothers’ nocturnal activities and still allow the girls to stay over and have breakfast in the morning. The truth is, they know nothing they do will stop my brothers from sleeping around, but this gives them a say in whether or not the girl stays within our family. Any girl who lasts longer than a day in our house is a girl who has gained my parents’ approval for mate.

As I think about how even my parents’ approval is not enough for my brothers to choose a girl as mate, I notice Burns in Andrea’s arms, reminding me of Connor’s prank.

Soon, I tell myself.

Not that I have a specific problem with Andrea, but as long as Connor hasn’t himself declared their relationship to be serious, I’m not going to make an effort to get along with her. I mean, she’s okay and all, and I can understand why my brother likes her so much, especially with her exotic looks. And, admittedly, it has been kind of fun learning some dirty Spanish words from her. But the truth of the matter is that we don’t have anything in common other than Connor. Plus, she’s a little too self-absorbed for my taste.

My mother is preparing bacon and eggs in the kitchen when we walk in. She has got her blonde hair pulled back by a headband, which makes her look younger than 45, although the crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes are a dead giveaway. On the outside, my mom is a very tough looking lady, with a firm athletic build and a hard-set jaw, but she’s actually a big softie.

That’s not to say she’s not strong. I mean, she is one human against six werewolves; just the matter of feeding us is a chore that would tire out anybody, but she also does the cleaning, the shopping and painting. She loves to paint. The cooking is the hardest part, though. I mean, for breakfast, she practically lays out a buffet for us. To human eyes, there’s enough food to feed twenty people, but we all just have really big appetites. Especially Nathan, who eats like a pig.

Morning, Mom, Danny and I say.

Mase and Con are busy greeting their girlfriends in their own special way, and Nate is already plating up.

This twin thing is really cool, Andrea whispers to Connor, thinking he’s the only one who can hear her. I wish you had a twin.

Morning, boys, Mom says with a smile on her face, her blue eyes twinkling when she sees us. For God’s sake, wait for your father, Nathan! Honestly!

I did, I hear Connor answer Andrea out loud. I ate him in the womb ‘cause he took up all my space.

Laughter rolls around the table, and it’s at that moment that Dad makes an entrance. Oh believe me, it’s a good thing there’s just one of him.

I’ve always admired the way my dad carries himself, in public and at home. Three years older than Mom, but he has a similar hardness to his appearance; with a square jaw that tints every expression he makes with coldness, eyes that could make anyone pee in their pants, and a sturdy build that almost rivals Connor’s, he is easily the most intimidating man I’ve ever met.

Unlike my mother, though, he’s just as hard on the inside as he is on the outside. He has always been able to make us boys guilty and afraid just by looking at us. His word is law, and he never has to raise his voice to make that clear. He has a lighter side buried somewhere, but it doesn’t come out often. This morning, we are rewarded with its presence.

Twins are a real piece of work, he goes on.

Hey! the four of us complain.

And here I thought I was your favorite, I add.

Of course you are, he assures me. You’re the only one who has my eyes.

It’s those little gestures of favoritism on his part that makes me take risks when it comes to things he and Mom usually refuse to give me.

Does that mean you’ll let me go to college? I half-joke, completely forgetting who is in the room.

Why wouldn’t you go to college? Andrea asks, puzzled. You and Danny graduate in June, don’t you?

Instantly, the mood is changed. As a rule, we never discuss matters that relate even a tiny bit to my secret in front of outsiders of the family. In my parents’ opinion, going to college is very risky, because there are so many things that can expose my true gender. Remember what I said about usually getting what I want from my parents if I asked nicely enough? College is one of the exceptions. You know, right next to actually being a girl.

Personally, I think they just don’t trust that I can handle it on my own, and would rather have me close to protect me. How else am I supposed to understand their constant refusal? But because they’ve always been good parents, and they were always fair with me and my brothers, I can’t bring myself to accuse them of that on the off chance that I’m wrong.

Marianna has already been established as part of the family, but Andrea is still an outsider because Connor is not as brave as Mason was when he took that leap. When I asked that question, I didn’t mean to put them in a bad situation, because I honestly forgot that Andrea was an outsider.

By the look in my father’s eyes, though, I know he doesn’t appreciate my bad timing. Oh, Michael’s just got someplace abroad in his mind, and his mother and I don’t approve, he easily lies.

Shit, he called me Michael.

He must be really upset that I asked. I look